


On a Collision Course (so let's floor it)

by Kaciel



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Oblivious, Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-18 23:36:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20200057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaciel/pseuds/Kaciel
Summary: You are an Overwatch hero who has established a close friendship with Junkrat over a shared specialization in explosives. Now, the two of you are essentially joined at the hip and too oblivious to realize you're both head over heels for each other.An extended mission and forgetful scheduling set a series of events in motion that might just finally force some sense into the two of you, along with just a touch of (drift) compatible combat techniques.--This is going to be pretty light hearted and fun. It's gonna be a while before we get to that M rated content, so just enjoy the ride in the meantime. I wrote this for myself, but I hope someone else might enjoy it as well!





	1. The Boys are Home and I'm a mess

**Author's Note:**

> I'm all about that Junk lad, and this is the first thing I've written in literal years so I have to edit chapters at least 4 times before I'm satisfied that I won't suddenly change my mind on plot points. As a result, they're probably gonna be pretty slow to come out. I'm sorry, and please have mercy on me.

You’re caught up in numbers and item codes when the door slams open, shattering the quiet of the afternoon and making you jump. Startled, you look up as a strong smoke smell hits you. Junkrat stands in the doorway, and it’s obvious that he’d kicked the door open. It should annoy you, but the wide grin on his face makes up for the scare. He’s more singed than normal, and from the frag launcher slung over his shoulder, you guess that he's likely come straight from the shooting range. 

“Hey, Rat!” You wince as the greeting comes out chirpier than intended. To your relief, Roadhog isn’t with him. The larger junker is observant, and so far you’ve managed to avoid tipping him off to your big ol’ crush. You blame a lack of sleep and time apart for how badly you’re slipping up now.

After a mission had become significantly more complicated than expected, the Junkers' week long job had turned into 2 months, with no word until the end on when it would be over. The team had arrived back at base the day before, and when they’d finally landed, the duo had been close to delirious from a lack of sleep. You're admittedly grateful, you doubt they remember all the ways you’d managed to make a fool of yourself in the brief period you'd spent with them before they headed off to crash. Apparently you wouldn't be satisfied until you'd made your crush blazingly obvious, however, because you seemed determined to make up for the missed opportunity.

Junkrat limps into the room, already chattering away and you can’t help but get distracted by the view you’d been deprived of for 2 entire months. You miss what he’s saying at first, but snap back to reality when he calls your name in a sing-song voice.

“There you are! Drifted off to la-la-land for a bit, did we?” He grins wider, slamming his gun down on the counter. You know him well enough that you don’t bother trying to explain yourself. It would likely only make things worse. Instead, you lean over the counter next to the gun, resting on your elbows.

“Got to bed late, Mei was filling me in on what happened in Mexico.” You say as you stifle a well timed yawn. “How ‘bout you though, catch up on enough sleep?” He’d passed out the minute you’d gotten him home, without even making it to the bed. One second he’d been walking fine and the next you’d suddenly had your arms full of warm, snoring junker. The man was heavier than he looked, and you’d barely managed to get him onto his bed.

“You betcha, slept so long I woke up stiff as a board, if ya know what I mean.” He winks, and his double entendre should be groan worthy, but it hits you like a punch to the gut and the room feels a degree hotter. You bite the inside of your cheek, and one of your knuckles cracks as you squeeze your own hands together as tightly as possible.

“Had to go explode some things just to loosen up, ya shoulda seen it! I think these new beauties are me best work yet.” He continues in a crooning tone, petting his frag launcher with a gentle hand. “Adjusted the trigger mechanism on me grenades before I left, but didn’t get a chance to show ya before Roadie and I had to load out.” This yanks your thoughts back out of the gutter, where they’re met with disappointment. It had become some kind of ritual to show each other new changes or upgrades before anyone else gets to see them, and even though you know he couldn’t have helped it, you’re still upset. It must show on your face, because Junkrat’s eyes widen slightly. 

“No need to get all misty there, doll, I’ll show ya tonight at training.” You smile for a moment, but it slides off your face as what he said clicks.

“Fuck. Tonight _ is _ training, isn’t it.” You’d gone and completely forgotten, too caught up in yesterday’s excitement. 

Checking the clock, and taking a peek at your inventory list (always kept out of Junkrat’s reach due to an unfortunate past incident), you do the math. There was about an hour before you were technically supposed to leave for the night, but that wouldn’t leave you enough time to lock up, change and get down to the practice grounds on time.

“Is it at the normal time tonight? Or did they switch it up ‘cause you guys just got back?” You ask, hopeful. Junkrat giggles and you know you’re SOL.

“You knock a few screws loose while I was gone? Jackie-boy wouldn’t change trainin’ time fer his own mother.”

You groan, letting your elbows slip out from under you to rest your chin on the counter instead. Soldier 76 would definitely chew your ass out if you showed up late, and you dreaded going through that again. You also didn’t want to miss out on training with Junkrat, but tardiness was one of the few things that really pissed Jack Morrison off.

Checking the clock again, you bite your lip and make a decision.

“Alright, I need you to do me a favour.” You say, already knowing what his response will be.

“Depends on the favour… or what I get out of it.” He grins and wiggles his eyebrows, exactly as expected. You roll your eyes, scrounging around for a scrap piece of paper.

“Your reward is gonna be not having to listen to Soldier 69-” at this, Junkrat can’t help but giggle, but you ignore it “-reaming me out for being late. I don’t have time to go all the way back to my place to change, so could you snag my stuff for me and bring it back here?” Finding a suitable slip, you write down the access code to your room, feeling-no, _ knowing _ that this was a terrible idea. You’ll change it as soon as you get the chance, because as much as you like Junkrat, you still trust him more with your life than you do with free access to your room. You hand the code over and he snatches it before you can change your mind. 

“That’s the access code to my room. My gear is all in the bag at the foot of my bed, and my bow is hung up on the wall, shouldn’t be hard to miss. If you have any trouble, call me.” He stands there expectantly, even after you’ve finished giving instructions and you wrack your brain trying to figure out if you missed something. 

“I’ll get you boba tea later?” You guess, and that does the trick. Junkrat leaves his frag launcher on the counter and starts toward the door

“Two teas, or whatever I take as collateral disappears forever!” He cackles while he disappears into the hallway, and you grit your teeth.

You knew this was a bad idea. 

\---


	2. Finders Keepers rules don't cover this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (I thought this chapter was going to need more editing but it surprised me by being basically good to go even after the time that's passed since the last time I worked on it. )

Junkrat was still chuckling to himself as he limped down the hall toward your room. It was turning out to be a great day so far; he was finally home, well rested, and now you’d given him free access to your room! Not that you’d be allowing this if you’d had any other choice, but this was one gift horse’s mouth he’d be keeping shut. He giggles harder for a moment as he imagines taping a horse’s mouth shut, and wonders if tape would even stick to a horse, but slowly his giggles peter out as his train of thought brings him back to you.

He’d said that stupid line about waking up ‘stiff as a board’ expecting a laugh and a groan about how terrible his joke was. Instead you’d given him an odd look while biting the inside of your cheek, and if he didn’t know better, he’d call it a serious case of ‘fuck me’ eyes. Picturing it in that context ignites a tiny flame of heat in his stomach, and he quickly shoves the thought away. The idea that you’d be interested in him like that was too far fetched. It was much more believable that it had been a ‘you made me think about your dick and I hate you’ face.  
Crumpling your note in his fist, he sighs with frustration. Why did reading people have to be so hard? It was easy when all you had to go off of was body language, that’s why he and Roadie got along so well. Adding facial expressions into the mix only gummed everything up and made it more confusing.

His contemplation is cut short as he arrives at your door. Glancing around, he makes sure no one is around to see him going into your room before keying in the code. The door slides open with a hiss, and he steps in.  
Your apartment is one of the bachelor units, mostly made up of a large space that functions as your dining room, living room and bedroom all in one. A small kitchenette and a surprisingly large bathroom lead off the main space. He’d been there before, for movie nights and stopping by quickly while you grabbed something, but never alone.  
Surveying the room, it's messier than he's seen before but still leaps and bounds better than his own. He thinks it’s silly that you'd put extra effort in for him of all people, and pretends it isn't making him a tiny bit warm and fuzzy inside.

Feeling a little weird to be in your apartment without you, he gets to work. He locates your duffel bag exactly where you said it would be, and sets it by the door so he can pull your bow down from its home on the wall. He’s surprisingly gentle with it for a man who breaks nearly everything he touches, carefully resting it atop your bag. Your boots are near your wardrobe, and he grabs them too, assuming you’d forgotten to ask for them. With everything you'd asked for collected, he could get going back to you... if he didn’t still need to look for that collateral.

He isn’t sure he’ll actually be taking anything, but he’d be remiss if he didn’t at least make an attempt.  
“Alrighty then, let's see what we've got.” He says to himself with a grin. Starting with the wardrobe, he pulls the doors open to find a whole bunch of clothes but not much else. Moving on, he checks the desk next, and doesn’t find much more than a few notebooks, some pens and a pack of sticky notes. That only really left the nightstand, and he didn't expect to find anything interesting there. Your place was starting to look like pretty slim pickings for suitable hostage items. Hobbling back across the room with a frown, he yanks the drawer of your nightstand open and grumbles with disappointment at the complete lack of anything interesting inside. A tube of lip balm, some hand cream and a tiny leather-bound book are all that's inside. He’d found exactly nothing that promised him a second boba tea, but figures he might as well move something just for the hell of it.

He picks up the journal, planning on hiding it somewhere you wouldn’t expect and absentmindedly thumbs through it while considering where to put it. His thoughts derail when the cascade of pages reveal the contents of the book. Inside, a large quantity of the pages are filled with your handwriting. Skimming the page he’d stopped on, it becomes apparent that this is a journal of your time with Overwatch. His eyes sparkled with glee over what a treasure trove he’d stumbled upon, and he shoves the book into his satchel before he can think better of the idea.

Giddy, he ties the laces on your boots together and slings them around his neck, before grabbing the rest of your stuff. Still careful with your bow, he thumps the control panel by the door and limps off, already trying to decide which two flavours of boba tea he’d be getting.

\---

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! I've got the next 3 chapters in varying stages of progress, but editing takes the longest, as always. Hope you enjoyed it so far, and look forward to the next part.


End file.
